


Unco

by BD99



Series: Tumblr Prompts [11]
Category: Sin With Me (Visual Novel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27815509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BD99/pseuds/BD99
Summary: Drink. Then, spill.” She urged. Despite the strength of her tone, the power of her posture and ... personality... Vinca’s words rung like a plea in Rae’s ears. The mechanic paused, taking another moment to inspect Vinca. There she was, on her knees in the sand of the Canyon, having chased Rae out onto the bike trails. Vinca was all high heels, platform shoes, clothes worth more than Rae’s monthly pay check, sullied by sand. And concern. Vinca embodied concern. The aloof tilt of her mouth wasn’t true; delicious looking, candy pink lips falling a bit too far into a frown. The darkness of her eyeliner couldn’t hide the shadows in hypnotic blue eyes. This Vinca was not somebody Rae had ever seen before, at least, not directed at her.
Series: Tumblr Prompts [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940980
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Unco

**Author's Note:**

> Written to the prompt : " Vinca comforting Rae through a mental breakdown after things her mom had said to her."

“Alright, this is fucking unco, Rae.” Vinca’s voice was sharp; sharper than the little throwing blades adorning her striking red jumpsuit. In the peak of the Vegas sun, Vinca was a gleaming star; a blaze of fury and snark. The cut of her shirt revealed glistening alabaster skin; the finest marble shined by the finest scented oils. From sharp collarbones worthy of a renascence sculpture, down the valley between breasts full enough to make angel’s sob with envy. Then the smooth expanse of her belly, a surface which occasionally seemed to bubble with hidden muscle. The heaving expanse of her ribcage, lines which appeared between exhales.

“Sit down. Drink this.” Each command was almost barked. Harsh and short. Delivered from the international supermodel Vinca Wren. Rae didn’t know whether it was the heat, her own loneliness or her hysteria that brought such a vision to her, nor if Vinca herself recognised the irony of addressing thirst when she was the cause of it across the world. All she knew with terrifying clarity was that she had obeyed, accepting the iced water bottle and dropping to her haunches like an ever-faithful hound.

“Wha-”

“Ah, ah, ah. No questions.” Vinca cut her off, reaching out to press the pad of her finger to Rae’s lips. The bike Mechanic fell obediently silent, fighting the urge to rub her lips together at the irritating grain of sand that rubbed across them. When had Vinca put her hands anywhere near dirt? Wait... she’d said no questions. Why was Rae asking questions? Before she could freefall into her doubts, Vinca seemed to read it. The model withdrew her decorated finger with a softened expression.

“Drink. Then, spill.” She urged. Despite the strength of her tone, the power of her posture and ... personality... Vinca’s words rung like a plea in Rae’s ears. The mechanic paused, taking another moment to inspect Vinca. There she was, on her knees in the sand of the Canyon, having chased Rae out onto the bike trails. Vinca was all high heels, platform shoes, clothes worth more than Rae’s monthly pay check, sullied by sand. And concern. Vinca embodied concern. The aloof tilt of her mouth wasn’t true; delicious looking, candy pink lips falling a bit too far into a frown. The darkness of her eyeliner couldn’t hide the shadows in hypnotic blue eyes. This Vinca was not somebody Rae had ever seen before, at least, not directed at her.

The mechanic realised what a mess she must be. Her tie-dyed hoodie flapping around her elbows, cheap t-shirt hanging off of one sunburnt shoulder. Her face had to be a mess, after all her sobbing. She could feel the itchiness across her eyes, the dried caking of tears and snot down her cheeks, all the way to the point of her chin. Despite this, Vinca Wren had chased her. HER. Rae Lang. A drop out, bike instructor and mechanic living in a cheap apartment above her workplace with her single mother. That gave her the courage to try and smile, to dare utter a deflecting line.

“The drink?”

Vinca literally growled in frustration. Her hands came up to her pixie cut, sweeping the longer, dyed bangs out of her eyes. Nails dug into her scalp, as if she could wrench her own thoughts out of her mind through the roots of her platinum hair.

“You are the most dense, stubborn woman I have ever met. You didn’t even cry when demons attacked you. We can’t have your eyes all swollen, that’s just a travesty. Whoever or whatever has made you this upset needs to be dealt with.” What started out frustration quickly melted back into concern. Hesitantly, as if she might break Rae, Vinca reached out. She ran her own fingers through Rae’s hair, across her temples, sweeping the chaotic locks away from the Asian’s face. Whatever Vinca saw there must have hurt her, given the subtle hitch in her breath before she slinked closer. How a near six-foot woman could slink on her knees was damn confusing, but Vinca Wren perfected the art. The movements. The attitude. The aura. Catwoman eat her heart out. It was almost feline how Vinca drew close, enough that she sat hip to hip with Rae.

“It’s my mom. We got into an argument, and things got spicy.” Rae confessed, letting herself melt into Vinca’s side. Any weariness vanished the moment Vinca’s arm wrapped around Rae’s shoulders, guiding her into a comforting closeness. Vinca’s nails found their way into Rae’s hair, delicately scratching across her scalp. This time, the motion was intentional, a gentle caress that drew the wounded sound from Rae’s throat, the weight off her chest.

“She said she was disappointed with me for dropping out of med school.”

That earned a derisive snort.

“Right. Because a doctor is SO much more useful than saving the world from Demons.” Vinca was unapologetically snarky. That earned a soft snort from Rae, a wet and wounded sound of amusement. So many people may have been touchy about such things, would have offered apologies and comforts. Vinca didn’t do that. She struck back, bigger and harder than ever, using the truth like a sledgehammer from a rival act.

“She thinks I’m being reckless with the act. That I’m trying to hurt myself like some...” Rae grasped for the words, unable to find what she was looking for. She looked imploringly to Vinca, pleading with the younger woman to rip the truth from her too. To drag every dark thought into the light, just as she did upon the stage. Just as she did in every brutal fight. There were so many shadows, so much confusion, yet Vinca usually brought clarity. Why wasn’t she being clarity now?

“I can read minds, you know. I’d know if you were being stupid or planning on kicking it on stage.”

“I don’t get it. She loves Yvette and Lazarus.”

“Everybody does.” Vinca agreed. It was true. Yvette was so painfully charming, despite her aloofness. She captivated without a single touch. She burned; azure fire held back by the weight of humanity. And Lazarus had somehow swept Rae’s mother off her feet with his gentle words and polite mannerisms. It didn’t hurt that his abs could be mistaken for a cheese grater, and that he never wore a closed shirt... ok, so her mother was a cougar. Rae couldn’t exactly blame her. But she could disagree on one thing.

“But she thinks you’re dangerous.”

“I can’t argue with that. My fashion is pretty sharp.” Vinca delivered the line flawlessly, only a twitch at the corner of her mouth showing any amusement. Rae could only shake her head in disbelief at Vinca’s jest. She didn’t get it. Didn’t take it seriously. And why should she? Vinca Wren was a worldly marvel, an international superstar. While Rae showed overweight tourist the easiest bike trails, Vinca Wren was in London. While Rae had to deal with overly entitled customers, Vinca Wren was sitting beside leopards in the finest lingerie or setting the trend for summer bathing suits surrounded by lions. Whilst Rae had a cougar for a mother, Vinca Wren sat amongst actual, literal cougars in suits that could make grown men sweat, or gowns which would make grown women sob with envy. Vinca Wren was Pride. The big bad sin. The mind reading, knife wielding, drop dead gorgeous extraordinaire. Why would she care what a bike shop owner thought?

“She thinks you’re just using me, that I’ve been swept up in the glamour, and I might get hurt when you g-get bored. That when you’re all done with the bike tricks, you won’t really care for me.” And there it was. The truth, laid out for Vinca to weaponize. To wield. All Rae’s unspoken fears laid bare. To rip the world apart with at a whim, all with her devastating smirk.

“Bullsh-” Vinca cut her answering growl off, clamping her jaw shut. A breath, composure reclaimed, emotion hidden behind a professional mask.

“... I mean, what do you think?” A submission. That made Rae blink. Vinca Wren had just shut down her own opinion to give Rae the floor.

“Can’t you read my mind?” Rae demanded on instinct, earning another derisive snort and a blasé flick of Vinca’s wrist.

“Duh! But like, invasion of privacy much?”

There was something about the way Vinca said it that didn’t sit right with Rae. A waver in her usually impeccably aloof act. Her sharp features were just that little too youthful. Her lips didn’t quite reach the notes of indifference, nor did her nose point quite as high in the air. Then, her eyes… wider. So impossibly bright blue, like a summer sky. So devastatingly vulnerable for a blink, before they narrowed slightly, adding to an angular appearance. 

“Are you scared what you’ll find?” Rae couldn’t help but fire back, drawn into the banter. It felt dangerous, like throwing herself into a pit of knives and daring them to cut her, but the reward was worthwhile. The briefest flash of surprise in Vinca’s eyes, a tinge of colour to her cheeks, and that dangerous not quite a pout, not quite a frown; an expression which promised pain and horror upon those who had incurred her wrath. The little crease in her brow, the way her eyes hardened and narrowed, honed to a razors edge. Somehow, knowing Vinca, that expression was just downright adorable... like a kitten threatening a toy mouse.

“I’m not scared!” Vinca declared just a touch too vehemently to be truthful. There it was. Pride. The sin Vinca had taken on, in a way she still hadn’t disclosed. Not fully. She had killed someone, that much Rae knew. Someone evil. Someone who had the world fooled and was using his power to hurt everyone Vinca loved. But Rae knew there was more. There had to be. It was too raw a wound to be a completed chapter.

“Vinca Wren. I know when you’re lying by now.” Rae commented, refusing to let the moment she saw go. Rae had seen the photoshoots, the advertisements, the endless endorsements of this larger than life woman. Vinca Wren was sold as sex and danger; a mystery. A real-life Selena Kyle. A sin above humanity. How many people got to catch a glimpse of the woman beneath? The young, loyal woman who would give everything to protect what she loved? How many people ever got to see Vinca crack? Even Yvette seemed to look to Vinca as a rock, mindless to the fact life was like water. Mindless to how water eroded Vinca, until only sex and danger remained. What she had to be. What everybody saw. Just how did the world see Vinca? How easily did they forget how she hurt?

“Fine, whatever!” Vinca’s confession was a deflection, delivered with another attempt at indifferent even in an explosion of irritation.

“So I’m anxious about what I’ll see. Happy now, you little sadist?” There was no heat to her words. The beginnings of a fond smile tugged at her lips, even as she straightened enough to loom over Rae, chin held high in a haughty fashion. Despite her appearance of looking down, Vinca’s eyes glistened with scarcely restrained amusement. Something rarer than diamonds. Sapphires amidst the clay and sands.

“Vinca.” If one name could be a loaded sentence, it was the way Rae whispered that name. A prayer. Imploring a goddess to pay heed to an ant. And heed the goddess paid. For one bright, blistering moment of crystal clarity, Vinca’s world was only Rae. Vinca gave her all to the mechanic, hanging on the unspoken words, searching and fearing simultaneously. Rae swallowed. What could she even say? What words did she have that could sum up the complication which was Vinca Wren? How could she show the duality of intents, the clash of meaning to every word that could ever describe her? Snarky meant wonderful, and bitchy meant saintly, selfless. Vinca redefined every insult one might spit; turned the world on its head, twisted it upon its axis. She was the brightest darkness. The darkest star. She was the shadow of the sun because she shone too intensely to be anything so simple as sunshine.

“Whenever you’re ready, look at what I think of you. Until then, I’ll try to find the right words.” Rae wanted to cuss herself out even as she spoke sweetly, invited Vinca inside yet again. Stupid. How was she so stupid? She’d had Vinca’s attention, had the chance to try to fix everything Vinca hated about herself. Had the chance to begin to untangle her own jumbled concepts of the woman. And what had she done? Chickened out. Left Vinca without answers and pressured her into something she clearly wasn’t comfortable with.

She was shocked to hear an amused huff, as if Vinca was attempting not to laugh. There was an easiness to her presence, a tenderness even in the way she sidled closer, using her own body as a pillar for Rae to lean on. For once, Vinca’s snark was delivered lightly, lips pulled into something resembling an unpractised smile as she delivered a deadpan line.

“I’ll buy you a dictionary.”

“Make sure it has snarky in it.” Rae needled lightly, giving Vinca a poke in her exposed ribs. The Pride assassin was warm, roasting even, yet so soft and smooth beneath even that poke. Once more, Rae was struck by how unusual their blossoming friendship was, how far apart their worlds truly were. Cultures, countries, pay checks. Everything considered to make the world turn. They were so very vastly different, yet here they were. Sitting in the sand. Sweaty and snotty. Making bad jokes and bridging their different upbringings one awkward syllable at a time.

“It’s a dictionary. That word be ancient. If it isn’t in there, I demand a refund.” Vinca pulled what might be dubbed a Karen face, complete with severe frown and haughtily raised brow. For one. Two. Three seconds, there was silence. Then, cracks. Vinca’s lips twitched, Rae’s breath caught in her nose. Then laughter. Rae laughed, freely and openly, right alongside Vinca. The Pride assassin’s laugh, a genuine laugh, was a far cry from delicate. It was the soft chortle of a lioness. A sound which was soft yet never let anybody forget the dangers of the being. Rae didn’t care. She continued to giggle and snort long after Vinca stopped, almost oblivious to the tender, thoughtful expression etched across Vinca’s face. Almost. Rae caught it, like a glimpse of a falling star, and wished upon it. Wished to understand it. For once, for clarity to be cast upon itself.

“... Look...” Vinca broached, voice unusually hesitant. Thoughtful and soft. So very quiet, yet so unmistakably her.

“Your mom cares about you. She’s worried. I get that. I’m not the type of person you want around for my sparkling personality. But you also have to make your own choices and mistakes. Thats part of growing up. And if you tell anybody about this, I will stab you, but you’re pretty ok. You haven’t fucked up that badly... yet.”

She had to add the yet. She couldn’t be soft, not if she wanted everybody safe. Soft wasn’t safe for anybody... yet. That didn’t mean she didn’t relish how close she had gotten, how close she could come. Enough to taste the humanity. Enough to break her heart once more.

“Vinca...” Rae began, unable to find any other word, any other sound even to begin her sentence. Summoned, Vinca’s gaze turned back to the mechanic, meeting her eyes in a silent question. A silent dare. Under the weight of such a gaze, Rae cracked. The corners of her mouth pulled towards her ears, curling into a wicked little grin that sent Vinca into high alert. She tensed, calculating. Instead, she found herself flabbergasted by a rather playful observation.

“You’re really terrible at this comforting thing.”

“No shit. What do you want from me? Professional advice?” She demanded sharply, brows arched dangerously. Her lips peeled away from her teeth ever so subtly, an instinctual warning. Just like a timid hound trying to prove it was tough, Rae realised. Vinca’s knee jerk reaction was fear. Denial. Aimed at something behind the words.

“Maybe just a hug?” Rae’s request was simple enough, though it still threw Vinca for a loop.

“Seriously? What are you, twelve?” She barked; her laughter far less joyous. What she didn’t expect was the wounded expression across Rae’s face... no. That was a lie. She had expected the sad tilt to the Asian’s fine lips, along with the foggy glistening across suddenly unfocused eyes. What Vinca hadn’t expected was the way it would hurt. She flinched, unable to stop her body from reacting despite all her training. Only one person ever asked for hugs from her. One glistening, gorgeous person who Vinca herself kept tearing down. One person she’d given everything for, including their relationship. One bright, stubborn little girl who... who reminded her entirely too much of Rae.

“... Fine.” She relented, twisting until she could gather the small woman to her chest. It was overwhelming in the best and worst of ways. Finally, after so long, she had someone she could care for. Even if that only lasted a moment, she had the comfort of contact. Of someone wanting innocent contact with her. She wasn’t reading lewd thoughts and desires, nor having to be on guard in case skin touched her. She could just... be. Exist in a moment. That was enough for Vinca to squeeze tighter, to burrow her nose into the crown of Rae’s head with an entirely too soft sigh of her own. Then, she bristled.

“For someone so sharp, you’re really a big softy.” Rae sighed, voice a million miles away. Lost in a moment Vinca could never fully surrender to. It was Too soft. Too dangerous. Too tempting. She wanted to withdraw, like a tiger with its paw snared in a trap, Vinca wanted to flee... but she couldn’t. Rae’s arms were wrapped around her, squeezing like a boa constrictor. Hands, gentler than the finest Masseuse, were like the teeth of a trap digging into her flesh. There she was, a soul sold to hell, stuck in the embrace of someone angelic. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.

“If you tell anyone...” she began, hissing the words into the baby hairs behind Rae’s ear. She shuddered, unable to conceal a reaction at the heated breath, the closeness... the sickly promise in Vinca’s empty threat.

“I know, you’ll stab me.” Rae chuckled, simply squeezing a little tighter, nuzzling that little bit closer. Vinca relented further, sighing, slouching into the contact.

“Seriously though...” Rae began, withdrawing enough to see the startled expression upon Vinca’s face as she muttered the next word.

It wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t the opening Rae had hoped for, nor the closure Vinca may have sought. Yet, there was a door opened. A tender olive branch extended; a sprig, too defiant to die in the blazing heat. That little spark, that unspoken potential drew a matching smile to Rae’s lips, gave her the courage to accept the comfort Vinca offered even knowing that she risked being cut. Perhaps bleeding would be worth it to have a friend as loyal as Pride... no, as loyal as Vinca Wren.

“Thanks.”


End file.
